


Third Times the Charm

by canibecandid



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 14:12:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1472722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canibecandid/pseuds/canibecandid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So much faith in one man, tossed aside because he can’t find a new habit. </p><p>Trust that he’d earned from her, tarnished by his own hands.</p><p>If she rolled up his sleeves, she knew she would see the tracks, but she can’t she just isn’t that strong. She wants the believe in Sherlock Holmes. Believe in the man she knows he is and not the abusing druggie before her.</p><p>The third hit is for herself.</p><p>She knows it and he does too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Third Times the Charm

He won’t even look at her. She wishes that she could say that she’s never seen him look so disheveled, but that would be a lie. She has seen him at his lowest, but that was  _before_.

 _Before_  Molly knew what an outstanding mind he had. The astounding gifts to help solve murders that otherwise would have been swept away in the mass of others. He’s a little odd, but he’s charming when he’s not trying to weasel something out of her. Oh hell, he’s still bloody good looking even when she’s furious. 

She doesn’t need the urine samples to know that he’s been using again. The bile rising in her throat as she continues the process, if just for humoring John. The purple gloves come off with forceful snaps as John asks the nail in the coffin.

_"Well then, is he clean?"_

Anger rushes through her veins as she looks a John with an incredulous look.

"Clean?" Bitterness bites at every word, John’s eyes jump to Sherlock standing behind her. She clamps the tip of her tongue between her teeth to keep from hurling the hideous insults that want to pour from her mouth as she stalks towards him. Feet planted firmly, her hand hits his face with a burning smack and he takes it while hardly flinching. 

The room goes quiet as they stare at her, but she feels another wave coming forward and she strikes out again. His head jerks to the side and the sound echos across the room. Her lips do not tremble and Molly would hardly believe that she had done this if not for her stinging hand. But she’s so hurt, she can’t help it.

So much faith in one man, tossed aside because he can’t find a new habit. 

Trust that he’d earned from her, tarnished by his own hands.

If she rolled up his sleeves, she knew she would see the tracks, but she can’t she just isn’t that strong. She wants the believe in Sherlock Holmes. Believe in the man she knows he is and not the abusing druggie before her.

The third hit is for herself.

She knows it and he does too.

"How dare you throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with," She seethes as tears spring in her eyes. "And how dare you betray the love of your friends. Say you’re sorry." She demands it as he touches his jaw tenderly, flinching at the contact.

She doesn’t count herself among them, even though he insists that she counts, she doesn’t want to believe that now. Her heart hurts enough for  _them._  

"Sorry your engagement is over. Though I’m fairly grateful for the lack of a ring." 

She almost wishes she’d kept the little ring on, just to see the little cuts across the face. He had earned them after all. But he was right, there wasn’t a point in wearing an engagement ring if she wasn’t engaged. That wasn’t the point though, she would not let him slide so easily.

"Stop it," He still won’t look her in the eye, he’s tried briefly, but it always shoots just to the left of her cheek or to the small scar on her forehead. Something he’d accidentally given her during his former use. "Just stop it."

John intervenes before he can say anything more, before she can do anything more. 

She catches him touching the right side of his face. She’d only hit it once, but third time was always the charm with Sherlock Holmes.

"He always says such horrible things." She mutters, clearing the equipment. "Always."

He leaves the lab without so much of a goodbye. It’s better this way.

"Always. Such horrible things." She continues as tears slide down her cheeks. "Always."


End file.
